The Potion of Immortality
by Dani
Summary: A Draco!fic, in which he's not a good guy in disguise and Neville is decidedly more evil than he is in canon. I bad girl, yes, yes indeed.
1. Default Chapter Title

  
A/N: I actually have a lot more of this fic written already, but I decided that it would be better to post it little by little, than to post a huge story every three months. This fic is mostly about Draco, but there are scenes with Harry and his crew too. If you're wondering, yes, this is my first post at fanfiction.net, but I've been reading here since about last March.   
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me because they all belong to JK Rowling- and her publishers too, I guess. (If they did belong to me, do you think I'd be writing here??)   
  


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##  _The Potion of Immortality:_

**Part One**

  
  
Draco leaned back in his personal chair in the Slytherin common room, absentmindedly twirling his quill. It was almost winter break in his fifth year, and the year had been frankly boring in comparison to the excitement of last year. At least, it _appeared_ to be less exciting to most people, but there had been things going on involving the community of dark witches and wizards that were being kept quiet, or maybe even being overlooked, by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Draco shook his head slightly, with a bit of a smirk on his face. The whole of the Ministry was blind to everything it didn't want to believe to be true. _Well, they'll find out soon enough_, thought Draco.   
  
"Hey Draco, wanna play chess?" asked Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe as one. _Like those idiots are even halfway decent opponents_, thought Draco to himself as he tried his best to conceal a snicker.   
  
"No," he sneered, "I don't." With that said, he stood up, collected his various unfinished papers, and marched from the room with his chin in the air and grey eyes dangerously unemotional.   
  
"Uhhhh. I'm going to bed," mumbled Crabbe, leaving Goyle with the halfway set-up game of chess. Goyle stared at the pieces, with a mixture of willing them to move back into their places in the box on their own, and of confusion as to where the pieces belonged. Finally, he dumped all of the glaring pieces into the box, covered it up hastily, glanced around the room, and stumbled up to his dormitory.   
  
Draco lay on his bed with his eyes closed and a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ over his face. _This winter break is going to be crazy_, he thought to himself. _Father says that it's time for me to become a Death Eater. Voldemort has been asking for me, but why? Father says that he was much older than I am when Voldemort called on him. I don't know anything about Potter, and I never had his trust to begin with. I wouldn't be able to bring in any information about Potter to Voldemort, so what else could I have that he wants?_  
  
Draco smiled under the paper. _Why should I care why Voldemort wants me? I'll get to be a Death Eater! It's everything I've ever wanted! I will get to do **more** than just tease mudbloods and muggles. I'll get to kill and torture them, just as I've always dreamed about. I wonder whether I'll get to kill Granger. That would be so cool. She's been asking for it for a while- like getting better marks than I get! That was way out of line for her type._ At some point during his later thoughts, Draco fell asleep with his face covered by the newspaper and being fully clothed.   


* * *

  
Harry Potter looked up from his essay for the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Ms. Hawkens, to watch his friends', Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom argument grow louder and more persistent. It seemed that Neville had asked Hermione to go to the same Winter Ball that Ron had previously asked her to go to, and she had said yes to both. Hermione seemed to be struggling to explain to Ron why she had said yes to both, and Neville seemed set to prove that Hermione simply wanted to go with him more than with Ron.  
  
Harry decided that it wasn't worth it to pick sides on something he had nothing to do with, and was trying to concentrate on his essay for the strictest Defense against the Dark Arts teacher he had ever had. Hawkens was serious about her job, and was generally harder on the Slytherins than any of the other houses. Harry was finding her classes to be the most interesting of all of his others, and was doing exceptionally well in her class on all parts of it. She didn't seem to favor him like the Slytherins claimed she did, as he received a lecture from her when he failed to turn in one homemork assignment.  
  
Harry was jerked out of his thoughts by the yells which were consuming the Gryffindor Common Room. He realized that he was the only one left in the room besides the three arguers, and, upon checking his watch, he realized that it was 11 at night. He packed up his parchment and tiptoed from the room, hoping he wouldn't be asked to take a side. The yells were still echoing up the stairway to the boys' rooms an hour later when Harry finished his work. Shaking his head, he clicked off his light and lay on his back, hoping that his friends would have sorted things out by the morning.  
  
When went down to breakfast the following day, he found his wishes were not granted. Ron was sitting far away from Neville and Hermione, who were sitting nearer each other and were chatting away happily. When they saw him coming, they gestured for him to join them, which he did giving Ron a hopeful glance. Ron narrowed his eyes and leaned over his food, pretending to concentrate on eating. Harry sighed and looked away.  
  
"So, what happened last night!? Did you guys come to any kind of...agreement about the Ball or something?" Harry decided the question had already been answered by who was sitting with who, but decided it couldn't hurt too much for him to ask.  
  
"Well, I decided that I would rather go with Neville than with Ron because Ron and I argue too much," said Hermione as if her answer was reasonable and fair. Neville smiled and nodded.  
  
"I mean, Harry, haven't you noticed how disagreeable they are together? If they were to have a deeper relationship-"  
  
"Then it wouldn't work out because we'd rip each other's heads off and never speak to one another again," finished Hermione for Neville.  
  
"Well...okay. Whatever you say- I just hope that you and Ron can patch things up, Hermione," said Harry while arching an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Oh, yeah, they'll fix things up really easily," Neville assured Harry, who was still doubtful. Something just didn't add up right. Hermione would never pick Neville over Ron, would she?

* * *

"Hey! Do you have my-"  
"**No!,**" said an exasperated second voice. "I don't! For the _last time_ I don't know where your Potions book is!"  
  
"Ughhh," groaned a disheveled Draco, as he awoke with a start to find the _Daily Prophet_, crumpled and thrown apart, over his face and spread around his bed. He plucked the front page, which had become stuck to his face, off of himself, and tossed it aside. _Ugh. I think I have ink on my face! Gross! Well, maybe no one will notice if I just put my hand over my head and walk to the bathroom like I have a headache..._   
  
He extracted himself from his bed and quickly walked out of his dormitory and down the hall to the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror, he was horrified to be able to read an entire article of the _Daily Prophet_ backwards through the mirror looking at his face. Shuddering when he realized how humiliating it would have been for him if he hadn't thought to check himself in the mirror, he splashed some cold water on his face and began to scrub at the ink on his face. Since the ink used by the _Daily Prophet_ is so much stronger than muggle ink, it took him a good twenty minutes to finish getting the ink off.  
  
Draco strutted through the Great Hall with his head held high, and glared at all of the Gyffindors as he passed by their table. Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter were among the many whom returned the glare. He smirked as he settled himself at his usual spot at the Slytherin table, and began to eat more quickly than usual. He had wasted a lot of time rubbing ink from his face that he usually spent loudly gloating so that the Gryffindors could overhear just enough of his conversation to be interested.   
  
As he ate, he glanced over at the Gryffindor table again. He was startled to see that Neville Longbottom, a complete idiot who belonged in Hufflepuff, was not sitting quietly by himself, but was fully engaged in a conversation with Potter and Granger. To his surprise, it was Weasley who was sitting alone looking sullen. Draco studied the group of Gryffindors for the rest of breakfast, and was still struggling to comprehend what was going on. He had managed, however, to loudly point out that Weasley was sitting alone to the rest of the Slytherins.  
  
It was not until Draco was done with his Herbology class, and was dozing off during History of Magic, that he realized what had been going on between the Gryffindors. _Oh, wow. This is going to be great!_ Draco was now sitting up and grinning broadly, which was earning him wierd looks from the rest of the class._ Longbottom and Granger, I never would have guessed that **they **would hook up! I finally have something new to tease Weasley about! It's quite obvious that he wants to be with Hermione._   
  
As Draco fantasized about his new plans to tease Weasley, Proffesor Binns droned on...and on...and on. When the bell signaling the end of class chimed, Draco was the only student still awake, and so he made it out of the door and into the Great Hall for lunch faster than anyone else.  
  
As Draco began to tell the rest of the Slytherins his findings, Weasley frowned in their direction. To Draco's surprise, he did not look hurt. The look that Weasley was giving Draco and the rest of the Slytherins was a look of worry. Draco brushed it aside and out of his thoughts. What did he care if Weasley was worried? For all Draco knew, he was probably just worried that he would never get to be with Granger.  
  
When lunch ended, Draco grinned. He had some more interesting classes up next, like Potions with the Gryffindors. Unfortunatly, he had Arithmancy before it, which was terribly boring. The only person who paid any sort of attention was the mudblood Granger.  
  
_Wait, Granger is in that class! Maybe it won't be so boring after all, if she's there. Well, it's sort of hard to tease her while Professor Vector is watching, and, seeing as Vector hates me, I don't think I should push my luck._  
  
Draco walked into the Arithmancy classroom looking very thoughtful. He scanned the room for anything interesting as he took his usual seat near the back of the room, as far away from Granger as he could get. As Vector began to ramble on about graphing a hyperbola, Draco's mind started to wander again. He was very welcoming of the bell signaling the end of class as Vector had started to look in his direction more often than Draco was comfortable with. He was afraid that she might call on him and realize he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to anything she was talking about, but not afraid enough to actually pay attention, of course. The threat of being called on wasn't great enough, as Granger answered most of the questions unless she was told specifically not to.   
  
Now was the class Draco had really been looking forward to- Potions. Draco sneered at the Gryffindors already in the Potions room and sat down gracefully, smiling a little at the Professor, Severus Snape. Draco took out some of his materials and listened carefully to Granger, Potter, and Longbottom's conversation across the room. They were talking in hushed tones, so it was difficult to hear. From the snatches of conversation that Draco heard, it seemed that they were talking about Weasley.   
  
_Yeah, they're talking about Weasley alright_, thought Draco. _I definitely heard something about feeling sorry for someone, wanting someone to be "more included," and hoping that someone wasn't too torn up about "it." They act like nobody can hear them! Maybe they want me to hear them! Nah...why would they want me to know about Weasley's problems? That's complete suicide. Well, who cares why they're talking so loudly, it's only hurting them, not me!_  
  
Draco shook his head slightly, clearing his muddled thoughts, and focused back on the potion he was making. Draco didn't think that making potions was very difficult, but he was still struggling to understand how to make potions correctly. Snape was not a good teacher, but luckily for Draco, Snape didn't care how well his potions were made. He was always given an A in the class. _I'm not exactly sure why Snape's so easy on me. I mean, I know it's just because he wants my father to like him and all, but why? Why would Snape care whether my father likes him or not? I wonder whether Snape's a Death Eater or not...my father seemed to like him at one point, but then he was furious with Snape at the end of my fourth year, and was happy with him again soon after. Something big must have happened. Maybe Snape was a Death Eater, only he's switched sides a lot or something. Father tells me almost everything I ask him, but he is always sensitive about answering questions about who are Death Eaters and who are not. It's very odd. I mean, it would be one thing if he didn't want to break some code of secrecy, but he doesn't usually mind breaking rules-_  
  
Draco's thoughts were interrupted when he realized how silent the room had become. He glanced around, narrowing his eyes at all of the Gryffindors, and quickly found the source of the silence. Snape was staring at Longbottom in a way he had never done before. It was not the hateful, angry glare he usually gave Longbottom, but it was closer to confusion. Draco's eyes darted between the two of them for a while, trying to get as much information as possible, but he could not understand.   
  
"What are you all doing staring at me!?" Snape's eyes wildly searched the room for a scapegoat. "Get back to work now. Detention, Longbottom, for disrupting the class."   
Longbottom looked down at his cauldron, which was bubbling a color differently from everyone else's, as he had managed to get the ingredients wrong yet again. _What was _**_that_**_ about!? I really shouldn't have been spacing out. Longbottom getting another potion wrong must have been the last straw for Snape. You would think that Snape would realize Longbottom needed help to understand how to make correct potions, but he was just too cold. I'm glad Snape likes my father and that I'm a Slytherin, or else I'd be pretty screwed as I'm only a little better then Longbottom at potions._ Draco finished up his potion and looked longingly at the clock, but stopped when he realized that nearly all of the Gryffindors were doing the same thing.  
  
"Done, Draco?" Draco jumped and looked over at Snape, who was leaning over him and inspecting his potion.  
"Yeah," Draco said while giving Snape the most innocent look he could manage. Draco considered asking him what was going on with Longbottom, but decided against it as Longbottom could easily overhear their conversation. Snape, however, seemed to understand what Draco wanted.  
  
"Stay after class," Snape said in an undertone. Since Snape had said that as a statement and not a question, Draco chose not to reply and Snape swept away to yell at Potter. Draco took a look at the clock and was pleased to realize that his last class before winter break officially began was going to end in about five minutes. When the bell rang, Draco started to leave, but was grabbed from behind with great force.   
  
"Get off of me," Draco said in an angry tone because he assumed it was one of the Gryffindors. Unfortunately, when he turned around, he was shocked to see Snape standing and frowning at him. Then Draco remembered.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to stay after class..." Snape smirked a bit, but seemed to forgive Draco for his forgetfulness. Snape shifted his weight and glanced around the room, apparently waiting for it to empty. When he was satisfied that no one else was around, he motioned for Draco to take a seat.  
  
"Do you know why I was upset with Longbottom, Draco?" Snape was looking a little worried; it was a look Draco was becoming familiar with.  
  
"No, not really. I thought it might have been something about how Longbottom messed up his potion _again_, but I guess not," Draco said quietly and honestly, for once. Snape relaxed; it seemed that whatever he was afraid Draco knew, he didn't know.   
  
"You better be going along now Draco, I believe you leave Hogwarts in an hour, right?"  
"Yeah...see you later." With that, Draco darted out of the room without a backwards glance. He didn't like Snape much more then anyone else. Right before he closed the door, he could almost hear someone say "Probably sooner then later," but Draco continued on as though he hadn't heard it. It wouldn't be until later that he actually understood why it had been said.  
  
Draco leaned up against the window of the train heading towards King's Cross Station and looked out of the rain splattered window. He squinted over at Crabbe and Goyle, who were busy with some strange muggle game. Draco rolled his eyes; it was so like them to play a muggle game as they didn't have the skills to play anything else.   
  
_I wonder what father will say to me when he picks me up? I wonder if he will even bother to pick me up. It wouldn't surprise me if he just got some servant to pick me up for him. Oh well, then everyone will see how much money we have since we can afford servants...that's always nice. I wonder if it's possible to have too much money. ugh. Why am I thinking these things??_ Draco sat up quickly and studied the outside scenery, which was a bit hard as it was pouring rain outside. _When did the rain start? I didn't fall asleep, did I? What time is it?_  
  
Draco checked his watch and decided that he **had** fallen asleep, and the train would be pulling into the station in a few minutes. Sitting up, he appraised the situation he was in. His father would be waiting for him at the station, he would be taken home, and his father would lecture about how to behave for his first meeting with Voldemort, even though he had already had the same talk many times before. _  
  
I suppose it'll be different this time, though. All the other times he's talked to me about him they've just been warnings for if Voldemort makes a sudden appearance and I have to greet him. I wonder whether father is really going to have Voldemort make me a Death Eater? Ugh! I've had this same conversation with myself a thousand times and it always is the same! I need to knock it off and stop worrying as much as the Mudblood Granger worries about homework. This is insane. I've got to stop this circular conversation!_   
  
Draco began fumbling around with his bags, rearranging things that really didn't need to be rearranged. The train began slowing, and he zipped up his bags. Crabbe and Goyle were both still sitting. They hadn't yet observed that the train was coming to a stop.  
  


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Review please!!! Flames are cool, I don't care! Much more plot development in the second part (and even more in the third- which I've started already). What's with Neville and Hermione? What would Voldemort want with Draco, besides the idea that Draco is Lucius' son? Please put your answers and thoughts in the review box! 


	2. Default Chapter Title

A/N: Ah...the second part. If you haven't read the first part of this fic, I doubt this part will make much sense to you, but you're welcome to try and prove me wrong. Thanks to all my reviewers from the first part (I read every single one several times, and without them this part wouldn't exist)! *sniffs* Someone wrote a nice review, and didn't put their name! *waves at the mysterious person* Hi! Oh, and netshark: Your review about how The Potion of Immortality could be a rip-off of the Elixir of Life? There're differences...one has to do with what happens if you take both. Ah! *jumps guiltily* I just gave away a huge bit of information, but no matter. Right, onto the story.  
  


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## _The Potion of Immortality:_

  
  
Part Two

  
  
"The train is stopping. I'm telling you since it appears you haven't noticed yet." Draco always had to talk to them like that, as they had never been able take a hint and he doubted the ability had come to them yet. Draco hauled all of his things into the hallway, and sneered as Crabbe and Goyle followed suit in the exact same manner. When the doors opened, Draco marched out first and muttered a hasty goodbye to Crabbe, Goyle and all of the other Slytherins who had taken the train. He spotted his father leaning casually against his magically enhanced limo nearby; somehow not getting wet from the rain.  
  
"Hello Draco," Lucius Malfoy said with a bit of a frown on his face as Draco approached. "We have to talk, you know. There are some things I think you're ready to...well, let's get in the car before we say anything that might...I don't want to be overheard." Lucius Malfoy raised his voice slightly as he said the last word and several people standing near them cringed and walked away quickly.  
  
Draco and his father got into the back of the limo, Lucius waved at the driver to go, and then he turned to Draco.  
  
"There is a Death Eater's meeting tonight and Voldemort and I have decided you shall attend it." Lucius said this with no emotion, and did not even make eye contact with Draco. Draco perked up a bit, and looked at his father with excitement.  
  
"So what do I have to do, father? Do I have to...pass a test or something??" Draco's eyes gleamed with anticipation at his father's reply, which was anything but what he expected.  
  
"There is nothing you can do except come. The Dark Lord will decide then whether you are...worthy," Lucius said with a hint of annoyance at Draco's questioning. A little put off at his father's lack of interest in what appeared to be a very important event in his life, Draco turned away from his father. Looking out of the window and at the storm, Draco observed how it was growing stronger with every passing minute.   
  
Because their limo was magically engineered to travel faster then any muggle vehicle could, yet have the speed go unnoticed, they arrived home in only a few minutes. The large black gates enclosing their home and yard creaked open to admit them, and the limo pulled up to front of the house. Keen to get away from his father, Draco leapt out of the car and marched quickly to the double door at the front entrance to the mansion. He gave three short taps on the door, waited a few seconds, and strolled through the doors when a house elf opened them.  
  
"Dinner is being in twenty minutes, sir. Just you and your father because your mother is eaten," the elf squeaked in its broken English. Assuming the elf meant that his mother already had eaten dinner, and had not been eaten by a stray dragon, Draco nodded his approval and strutted up to his room. His trunk had already been brought up by one of the elves, and was positioned at the floor near the front of his large king-sized bed. He got took out a silver comb and began readying himself for dinner.  
  
_I wonder if my father will have more to say to me about becoming a Death Eater tonight? Maybe there's some code of silence that all Death Eaters take and father was just following it, but somehow I don't think so. I guess I'll just have to wait and see, since by late tonight I should be a Death Eater myself. I wonder what everyone at school would think about _**_that_**_! Potter and his gang probably wouldn't be suprised, but Snape...I don't know about him. I really want to know whether he's a Death Eater or not! Will I find out tonight? Will I ever find out?_ Draco bit his lip to stop his maddening questions from continuing to swirl around his head. He checked his watch and noticed there wasn't much more time left until he was expected in the dining room.   
  
Draco decided to walk down to the dining room then, rather than risk being late. With one last check in the mirror at his appearance, he strolled out of his room, shutting the door noiselessly behind him. Knocking some things over as he went, so as to have something to yell at the house elves about, Draco went into the dining room and took his usual chair; to the left of the head. A few tense minutes later, his father came in.  
  
For once, Lucius did not look as though he couldn't care less about whom he was sitting with because he had "more important things on his mind." Lucius graciously took his seat at the head and looked around for the nearest elf to scold about lack of service. Before he had a chance to complain, however, one came up to the table, fully weighted down with food to be placed on the table. Another elf came up from behind and took everything out of the other's hands and onto the table. They both scampered away, leaving Draco and Lucius alone together at last.  
  
"We are to go to him directly after eating. I expect you are prepared, Draco." Lucius did not give any hint he was going to tell anymore, and so when Draco responded that he was ready, it was with defeat. Somehow, dinner flew by much quicker than it usually did. _Of course it did, whenever you are worried about something to come, it comes even faster. Am I worried about becoming a Death Eater? I shouldn't be. Father is one of the top guys, I shouldn't be nervous._   
  
Silently, Lucius stood up, walked from the table, and made it into the enterance hall. Draco, deciding he was intended to come, followed. As the minutes ticked by, Draco became in a trace-like state, and began to worry less about what was to come. He cleared his throat, letting his father know he was ready, but Lucius did not regard him. They stood in the hallway, staring at the door, for about a half an hour. Finally, right after Draco began to wonder whether his father had gone mad, Lucius twitched.   
  
It was a very peculiar twitch; as though he had been physically harmed or insulted to his face, but it dropped Draco's fears for his father's sanity. Still not speaking, Lucius opened the door and walked to the limo parked outside, taking the keys out of his back pocket as he did so. Again, since he had not been told not to come, Draco followed.  
  
They drove in silence until Lucius said "I wouldn't have driven us here, except you can't aparate. It would be illegal and very dangerous." Draco resisted the urge to grin, as he considered what he was planning on doing in a short time both illegal and dangerous. "I also didn't want to have a servant drive us there because then our secret meeting place wouldn't be a secret."  
  
After a long period of time, Lucius turned right into a driveway Draco hadn't seen until they were already in it. Draco went numb, and everything became a dream. Nothing was real; not the small cabin hidden behind large shrubs; not the man ushering them inside; nothing. Draco heard the dry voice speak as though from far away, and it slowly came closer to him until he was standing only a few feet away from it.  
  
"Welcome to the second new-member joining ceremony since my uprising, " said the cold voice from behind a jewel-encrusted thrown facing away from them. "I expect all who are present to be ready to devote themselves to serving me, and no one else." It was then that Draco noticed he couldn't see the faces of the Death Eaters for there were all wearing masks. However, when he scanned the room more thoroughly, he found that there were many bare-faced people as well; all who were looking terrified. Draco hoped, for his own sake, that he didn't look as scared as they did.  
  
Suddenly, Draco realized he was being pushed by his father nearer the thrown, and so were the other maskless people. Unfortunately for Draco's nerves, he was last in the long line which had formed. _Great. Just what I need. I wonder if father could pull me to the front...woah, never mind. He's gone!_ Draco searched for a very long time, trying to locate his father, but with no success. Someone tapped his shoulder and he almost screamed, but he caught himself at the last second. The tapper was wearing a mask, so Draco couldn't tell who it was. When the tapper greeted him, he knew who it was at once.  
  
"Going to become one of us, huh?" Severus Snape's eyes were glittering with something Draco couldn't read. Maybe it was excitement. Whatever it was, it was something that didn't show up on Snape's face very often.  
  
"Oh, look!" Snape had a sort of insane tone of voice that was becoming more prominent as their one-sided conversation continued. "Your turn has arrived! Good luck...Not that you're going to need it or anything..." Draco was now thoroughly appalled at Snape's attitude, but was highly distracted because it was, in fact, his turn. Saying a hasty farewell to Snape, he cautiously approached the thrown. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for longer than it takes to blink, and stepped around so that Voldemort could see that he was ready.  
  
"Why Draco! Your turn so soon?" Now Draco knew where his father had gone off to. "My Lord, here is my son." Draco wasn't as shocked as most were when they first looked into the eyes of Lord Voldemort, but, no matter how many times his father had told him about Voldemort's horrific appearance, he could not suppress a quick flinch. Voldemort smiled; or at least it looked like he was smiling. Maybe he was just opening his mouth to scare Draco with his unnatural lipless mouth. That sounded like the type of thing Voldemort would do.  
  
"Young Malfoy, ready to become one of mine? Usually I must search for the proper person to teach you the basics, but Lucius here is more than good enough. I hope you'll do as well..." Voldemort did not state that as a question. He was ordering Draco to do as well as his father, which was a bit disturbing to Draco seeing as he hadn't said nor done anything in front of Voldemort yet. _This man, he's just..wrong. I don't understand how he can stand in front of me and talk like a normal person can. After everything he's done, every life he's ended...he can still stand before me, nearly a stranger, and smile. I bet he learned how to be fake when he was at Hogwarts faking everyone out to make them like him. Well, he got everyone believing in his innocence except for Dumbledore, but he is putting the "dumb" in his name to use by fighting on the side that will lose. Dumbledore doesn't impress me very much._  
  
"You will begin taking orders passed from me to Lucius in four months, but I expect you to do everything and anything I say without any questions. Hogwarts is nothing to me. Nothing except something that needs destroying." Voldemort had been raving nonstop while Draco had been spacing out. Luckily, Voldemort was so wrapped up in his obsession with his powers that he hadn't noticed. "That is not a priority, however. I have much more important things to work on...yes, much more important...important...much more..." The Dark Lord began to stare off into space with a dreamy look on his face. Draco was afraid to speak up, so he allowed Voldemort to stand frozen with his thoughts for a long time. Finally Lucius, who was also a little annoyed with Voldemort, cleared his throat. Voldemort jerked as if he had been woken up from some grand dream, and was none to happy about it.  
  
"Right. You are to be sworn in tonight, right boy?" Both Draco and Lucius nodded, and Voldemort began to pace back and forth, muttering seemingly random things under his breath. "BWTP should be working things out with GWMP, but it may not go along with our ideas...we can always fall back on that spell...either way we've got BWDP right where we need it. That was a brilliant find of BWTP, even I had not thought that BWDP would have that potion in its blood. Too bad GWMP had to find out too, although I doubt it would figure everything out. It probably doesn't even know...GWMP may just ruin our plans if it squeals to BWDP...but it wouldn't! IT **WOULDN'T DARE**!! WHAT!?" Draco and Lucius exchanged bemused looks as the Dark Lord continued to pace and ignore them.  
  
Suddenly, Voldemort turned to Draco. "You! I want you to work on this mission for me! Yes, you'd do the job right...get it done fast and easy. Perhaps with some assistance from your father, hmm? You'd like that wouldn't you? Both of you." So far Draco had been following his father's lead and wasn't interrupting, but Draco couldn't help himself.  
  
"Is there some kind of initiation of sorts for me to join the Death Eaters? What is it you want me to do, exactly? Who exactly are BVRP and CDTP?"  
  
"Ah...he speaks. Lucius, I was waiting for this. Why did you tell him not to say anything?" Underneath his mask, Lucius was looking around for some guidence for how to respond to Voldemort, but, of course, there was none to be found.  
  
"I didn't tell him not to respond. He was simply following my lead. Since I did not say anything, he did not say anything." Lucius was disgusted with his answer because it was the truth, and it sounded terrible.  
  
"Oh, I see. Well, I find that a little discouraging, Lucius. I had hoped you were training Draco to be a little more independent than that, but I see I was mistaken. Well, as to answer your questions, young Malfoy, you are not a Death Eater. At least, you are not one yet. I have a paper for you to read, and once you agree to the orders inside it, I will make you an official Death Eater." Voldemort wandered off to get the papers, and Draco stood marveling at how easy it seemed to become a Death Eater. Lucius too was a bit concerned at how simple his master was making it for Draco to join, but knew that it would get harder. "Here we are- Draco, just read through all of these and verbally agree to the terms. We'll go from there." Draco took the papers with a steady, confident hand.  
  
_ This is too easy, but, of course, I shouldn't complain. All I have to do is verbally agree. I must obey Voldemort and no one else. I must obey all of my superiors, except when it is apparent that they have turned themselves over to the light side and are acting as spies. Well, duh! Voldemort's orders seem easy enough to follow right now...what idiot wouldn't go by these rules naturally? This man has way too much free time! How many pages are here, twenty? There's no way I'm reading all this crap. I'll just skim it...get the important information out of it..._ Lucius and Voldemort exchanged looks as Draco read through the packet faster than was humanly possible.   
  
"Fast reader, eh? It's okay, young Malfoy, no one reads the boring crap. If you'll draw you're attention to the first and last paragraphs I think everything you need to know is in there." Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Voldemort was not caring that he hadn't read what was in the papers! Voldemort was acting pretty cool in Draco's opinion, but perhaps he was doing that on purpose to make Draco join him. Voldemort was impossible to figure out, and just trying to gave Draco a headache, so he chose to stop trying. He found a short passage at the end which was headed with "Official Joining Oath: To Be Read Aloud When You Agree to the Above Terms." Since he couldn't do anything except agree with the above terms unless he wanted to die sooner than he was meant to, Draco read aloud the passage.  
  
"I agree to everything that is written above and swear to serve you until I die in your service with honers, or until I am killed for security reasons." _Hehe. That sounds like really badly written marriage vows or something...Is that all? There must be something harder. Voldemort would not trust a servant only after they read aloud a short passage- not like he ever truly trusts anyone...how could he?_  
  
"Yes, yes. That's all roses and cocktails, but you know there is much more you must do to mean anything, or to gain any trust from me. I can sense it, young Malfoy, you do not understand why this is so easy for you. Must every task be impossibly difficult? Well, you're right. There is more, much more." With that, Voldemort dramatically pulled out his wand and flicked it so that Draco's left forearm was left exposed. Draco looked around in confusion, never having heard about anything to do with arms and becoming a Death Eater.  
  
A feeling of a mixture of power and poison flowed through Draco's body, and he soon forgot to care about what had just mattered so much to him seconds ago. When it seemed that the poisonous part of the mixture was too much for comfort, everything stopped and Draco found himself kneeling on the ground hunched over. Right when he felt like standing up and asking some question, a prickly pain like a thousand shots at once spread over his exposed arm and he watched with amazement as a picture began to develop. It only took several seconds for the Dark Mark to become clear and black on his arm, but before Draco had a chance to really look at it, it vanished.  
  
Lucius looked very pleased with Draco, but gave him a warning look that said all to clearly it was time for Draco to get off the floor. Draco leapt to his feet, and Lucius gave him a reprimanding look. Draco gave his tingling arm one last glance before he pulled his sleeve down to cover it up. _Did all Death Eaters go through that? I hope so because whatever happened just then is probably pretty serious. I wonder if father has the Mark inscribed on his arm too...that would be strange, I've never seen it before. Then again, my father never wears short sleeved shirts. Maybe I just found out why..._  
  
"Well, that was easy. Your arm was especially easy to inscribe the Mark on, young Malfoy. Perhaps it is because you are so pale." Draco could tell he was turning a bit red, and his father gave him yet another warning look. One might think his father was actually afraid for Draco's safety; something Lucius had never showed any care for previously in more prominently dangerous situations.   
  
"You were lucky, young Malfoy, most fall twitching and screaming at my feet when I Mark them." Voldemort looked like he had just lost the winning numbers for a lottery by dropping them overboard while leaning on the railing of a cruise ship. "Perhaps I did hurt you and you are just braver than you appear, but it is no matter. I have some papers that I need you to read through, Lucius. Young Malfoy, I expect your father has explained some of what is expected of you from me for the near future?"  
  
Draco had no idea what Voldemort was talking about, but decided it would be better for his father if he nodded yes. His father gave Voldemort a curt nod, and Draco followed him past all the other Death Eaters and out to the car in a bit of a daze.  
  
Draco was in a state of complete happiness, mixed with shock. Everything he had been worrying about had turned out to be so easy it was unnerving. It occured to him then that he didn't even know what had happened to his arm back with Voldemort, but he was so tired that he couldn't bother himself with asking Lucius about it. He leaned up against the window of the car as they pulled out of the mysterious driveway, and fell into a strangely peaceful sleep, complete with a few snores.   


* * *

  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me because they all belong to JK Rowling- and her publishers too, I guess. (If they did belong to me, do you think I'd be writing here??)   
  
A/N: I know I said that I'd put more scenes with Harry and his group in! *wimpers* Sorry! I've already written about 11KB (four pages) for part three and 6KB (1.5 pages) for part four, so I'll get the next part up by at least next Monday (the 27th). Part three is much more...mysterious. *hehehe*  
  
Hmm....what are GWMP, BWTP, and BWDP? Any and all ideas, comments, or answers please put in your reviews! Flames are welcome. sincerely, ~Dani the death eater who loves Draco Malfoy and worships the ground Voldy walks on~  
  



	3. Default Chapter Title

A/N: This installment is slightly more mysterious than the others, and much less straightforward. There is one part where you might find yourself kind of wierded out, (keyword: cherries) but I promise it works out in the end. *grins* As my World History teacher likes to say in an annoying voice: "Trust the Process!"  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me, as they all belong to JK Rowling (and her publishers too, I think...oh well, whatever.)   
  


* * *

  


## _The Potion of Immortality:  
_

Part Three  
  
"Who are you to tell me where I can and can't walk at night!? I don't care who your _uncle_ is! In fact, I don't-"  
  
"Please! I was just wondering why you were out in the dead of night walking along in a corridor that's not near your office."  
  
"You still have no business knowing that! You're just diverting my attention from why _you_ are walking along here at two in the morning. I'm not that dumb. I would have thought you'd have figured that out by now...but wait, you're too dumb."  
  
"OK. How about this: I didn't see you. You didn't see me. We'll just go on our ways..."  
  
"Ever since you saw me at that meeting, you've thought of me as an equal or maybe even as a lower class! Well, when we're at Hogwarts _I_ am the teacher and _you_ are my student who cowers at my feet." The teacher stood on the tips of his toes, towering over the student, and fiddled with his wand threateningly. "And yes, you can tell your _uncle_ what I just said. It will interest me greatly to see whether he does anything. You need to start acting as you usually do around me or people might begin to think things..."  
  
"People would never suspect me! Not after my parents...not when they think of who my friends are. I think the reason you're saying that is so people won't suspect _you_! Oh, and my uncle is coming tomorrow to bring me back home with Gran, so I'll be sure and tell him _exactly_ what you said..."  
  
"You...you...I'm taking twenty points from your house for this!" After the teacher said this, he turned and stormed away, leaving the student to stand alone in the deserted hallway.  


* * *

  
Draco paced around his room with the same thoughts running through his head again and again. He still couldn't believe that he had been an official Death Eater for one day, yet hadn't been able to talk to his father about the Dark Mark Voldemort put on his arm. Finally, he grew tired of his room and decided to pace around the house, which might be a more interesting environment. He stopped just outside a room he was usually forbidden to go into, and listened to the voices coming from within it.  
  
"So you've got her completely convinced? You sure? Do you want me to control her or you?"  
  
"I should. I'm around her and know what she normally acts like..."  
  
"Well, you know, the spell will allow GWMP to do what you want, but for the most part it won't even realize it's under any kind of spell. It'll deny to itself that everything it does is controlled by someone else. Eventually it will think that it's gone mad and will give in to everything it _thinks_ it wants, but are really the things that you want. GWMP will think that it is who you need it to be. Do you follow?"  
  
"Yeah. This sounds great. So GWMP will be controlled by me, but not think that it is? How should we get BWDP to go along with it, I mean when GWMP tries to talk it into drinking the blood? Should we find some grand explanation for why it should drink what GWMP wants it to drink? Should we just have GWMG spike BWDP's drink? We'll never get the Elixir of Life, but unicorn blood we can get hold of, or, more like it, GWMP can get hold of it." Both voices chuckled.  
  
Draco realized that he was listening to what was probably a very secret meeting, and he edged closer to the door hoping to hear more.  
  
"Yes, but there's something I don't understand...How do I put the spell on her?"  
  
"I'll say the incantation on the day Draco goes back to school, and will include both of your names in it. At four pm you should feel a sudden burst of power, and that is your clue that you are controlling GWMP's every move, got it? People are going to notice I'm gone, so I've got to go. I wouldn't want people suspicious of me or anything..."  
  
"What is with people today? Someone else said a very similar thing to me less than an hour ago, but you're right. I have to go too." There were some shuffling noises and a few clatters, and Draco realized he needed to get far away from where he was standing. He settled for huddling in a dark corner, since he wanted to see who had been talking. He was unsurprised when his father slid out of the room straightening his robes and patting his hair. Draco waited until his father was far down the hallway and around a corner before he scuttled off in the opposite direction his father had gone. He jumped guiltily when a clock behind him noisily chimed three am.  
  
Draco found himself in a huge library with hundreds of book towering over him. Even though the books looming down on him were creepy, he decided to stay and research some on what he had overheard. The E-something of life and unicorn blood had been mentioned, and they had also talked about some kind of controlling spell. After a few hours of looking up vague things in books that held both too much and not enough information, Draco decided to go back to his room.  
  
However, he had a slight problem. His mansion was so huge that he had no idea where he was, and was sure that no one came to this particular library very often, as everything was covered in many layers of dust. When he had walked to the library, he hadn't watched where he was going because he was so deep in thought about the fascinating conversation he had listened to. Draco stood up and analyzed the situation. Eventually, ne concluded that if he walked for long enough he'd come to a place that he recognized and would be able to find his way back to the main part of his home from.  
  
He strolled out of the library, taking some books of interest with him, and wandered out of the library. He did not recognize where he was in the house, and picked up his pace. He made turn after turn, and was shocked to realize how much distance he had covered while spacing out. Getting more nervous by the minute, Draco broke into a run. He was convinced someone was running after him, trying to catch him while he was lost in his own house. He sprinted for about ten minutes before he gave up and collapsed on the red carpeted floor. Everything was upside down, and he felt like throwing up. However, he was too tired. Instead, he curled up on the floor, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.  
  
Draco woke up the next morning thinking the previous night must have been a dream. When he saw that he was lying on the floor of a dark, narrow, high-ceiled hall, and had been using several books as a pillow, he realized with a jolt that it had been real.  
  
Draco straightened up and leaned against the wall, gathering the scattered books in his arms. After a few minutes he stood up and began to walk slowly down the hall in the direction he thought he had been going in the night before. _Maybe father sent out a search party for me. Then again, I doubt he thinks it would be possible for me to get lost in this mansion. I wonder if he's ever been down here?  
  
I mean, this part of the house looks so deserted that maybe he would never even think that I could get lost because he doesn't know that this part exists...I'm lost in my own mansion. How pathetic is that!? Ugh, I'm so hungry. I haven't eaten since...that dinner before I became a Death Eater? It couldn't have been that long. Maybe that's why I'm feeling so dizzy._  
  
Without realizing what he was doing, Draco leaned up against a weak wall that gave in under his weight. He passed out right before he noticed that he was falling into one of the deserted Malfoy dungeons beneath his house.  


* * *

  
  
"Good morning Narcissa, has Draco already come down for breakfast?" Lucius settled himself at the head of the long dining room table.  
  
"No. The last time I saw him was the lunch and dinner the day after you went to your important meeting, which was the night before last..."  
  
"Wait, you didn't see him yesterday? I haven't seen him since...the lunch and dinner after the important meeting either. So what did he do yesterday? I'll go check his room...perhaps he's tired." Lucius got up from the table and walked off in the direction of the house elves' rooms. Instead of checking on Draco himself, he got an elf to do it for him.  
  
"Yes, so tired that he slept all day yesterday and missed breakfast today too..." Narcissa was a little ticked at Lucius' calm when it was obvious something was wrong with Draco. A few minutes later, Lucius marched into the room and announced that Draco was not in his room, and that none of the house elves had seen him the day before.  


* * *

  
  
"HELLLLLPPP!!!!" Draco was getting close to tears since he had been trapped for almost 24 hours in a cold dungeon. With every passing minute he was becoming more delirious because he hadn't eaten for so long. There were things to eat down where he was, but they were bottled up and looked so creepy that he didn't dare touch the glass jars to open them.  
  
After what felt like hours of staring at one particular jar, which looked like it was filled with cherries, Draco summoned all of his courage and reached out to open it. He finally got it open, and walked over to some kind of work table where he dumped the cherries (or whatever they were) out onto. He walked around the table, looking at the cherries from every possible angle to make sure they weren't hiding anything. In one quick movement he snatched one up, shoved it in his mouth, and chewed it a little before swallowing.  
  
Suddenly, the area he was standing in lit up, and he was able to see several doors which led out of the room. He grabbed as many of the cherries as he could take, and timidly walked through the closest door to him. As soon as he stood on the threshold, he could see his yard and the gates leading out of his house.  
  
Thinking he was free, he walked out through the door and into what he thought was his yard. Suddenly the scene changed and he was standing in the narrow space between a door and a wall. He could hear two people chattering away, obviously not realizing that someone was hiding in their house. Draco peered out from behind the door, and saw that he had come to the kitchen area of his own mansion, since he recognized several of the elves as ones who had woken him up from a good night's sleep to clean his room.  
  
Draco cleared his throat and entered the room from his hiding space behind the door. The house elves continued their work. Draco chucked the cherries at them, but they ignored them. Draco stormed out of the room in the direction of the dining room, and none of the elves came after him.  
  
Draco looked down at his hands to see how many of the magical cherries he had gathered, and was horrified when he saw nothing but the floor. Either the cherries were making him go crazy, or they caused people to vanish. Maybe it was a mix of both, because Draco had most certainly vanished, but was feeling a little bit foolish too. He had never heard of cherries with those kind of powers, and had only heard of a few (illegal) potions which resulted in a person going invisible against their will.  
  
Draco stopped where he was and walked back to the kitchen area. He was determined to try and retrace his steps to see how he might have jumped from one place to the next, and to see if he was only invisible in certain places. Draco had only taken a few steps when he fell to the ground, clutching at the Dark Mark on his arm which had suddenly reappeared. Right when he felt like screaming for the pain to stop, the room faded away and he found himself back in the dungeon on the cold floor.  
  
"What the hell?" Draco's voice echoed strangely in the empty room, and some flakes of dirt fell from the ceiling and scattered around the floor. _That has got to be the wierdest nightmare I've ever had. Did I ever eat one of those cherries? Oh...ewww...I smushed it all up! Gross, I've stained my good white shirt!_ Draco began to laugh upon thinking that, since there were much more important things that he should have been thinking about than ruining his shirt. Draco got up off the floor and walked around the room, noting that the hole he had fallen was nothing more than a small dot of light far above.  
  
Voldemort grinned as Draco walked in circles around the dungeon, staring up at the faintly visible hole he had fallen through. Voldemort leaned against a wall of the dungeon in a dark corner and waited for Draco to remember that Voldemort had caused his Mark to hurt. Of course, he probably thought that was in the dream, but it would only be a matter of time before Draco glanced at his arm and noticed that the Mark was black.   


* * *

  
  
Neville Longbottom frowned at his grandmother, who was pleading with him to be let out of the basement he and his uncle had locked her into. Longbottom ignored her shrieks and curses while he went about his business. Voldemort had requested that he find some ancient literature on The Potion of Immortality, but there didn't seem to be any. He hadn't dared to ask his grandmother about it, as she was so angry with him that she would probably just lie. His uncle was annoying him by rattling on about needing to find information about other things, so Neville's last hope had been to search in the basement for moldy books that hadn't been touched in years, but might hold the answers to Voldemort's questions.  
  
"Neville, dear...he's got you all confused. This isn't what you want. Please, how can you do this to me!? I've taken good care of you, haven't I? I raised you when no one else would...or could. Stop listening to Peter. He's just too afraid for his own life to stand up for what he knows is right. I know you really belonged in Gryffindor...you're so brave. You can fight him off, dear. Please just let me go! I won't do anything to you; I just want to get out of the darkness. I'm being swallowed up...I can't see..."  
  
"You're being way too dramatic about this, Gran. Just deal with it. At least I'm not physically hurting you...I could kill you. You know, I'd be rid of you forever. I'd never have to worry about disappointing anyone. Never again, Gran. Never again would I hear about Potions being an easy class...never again would I hear you complaining about my Transfiguration final results. At least my parents never complained. They don't care. Why did you have to care so much, Gran?"  
  
"Damn it, Neville! I don't care anymore! I'm so upset...this is so...horrific. This must be some kind of a nightmare."   
  
"I suppose you'd prefer that I put you out of your misery, then?" With that, Longbottom whipped out his wand. He smiled as he clearly spoke the words for the Killing Curse, and his smile grew to be a wide grin while he watched his grandmother slide limply to the floor.  
  
Longbottom decided that he would ask his uncle later about destroying the evidence of his second official murder, and continued his search through the endless books.  


* * *

  
  
Severus Snape slammed his book on foreign potions closed on his desk and rubbed his head (which made his night cap go crooked) trying to understand everything that had happened within the last few months of his life. Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail as he called himself now, had somehow gotten Neville Longbottom to join Voldemort. Snape recalled that last potions class.  
  
He had lashed out, hissing something about Longbottom's weakness with potions, and how he must take after his uncle, Peter Pettigrew, who had been horrible at them too. Longbottom had replied in a quiet undertone that his uncle was very good at potions, and had successfully created one that allowed Voldemort to rise again. Snape was still horrified that Longbottom had found out about that, as he thought Longbottom believed his uncle to be dead.  
  
Snape thought he might have made too big and obvious a scene then, as most students in the potions class had noticed his sudden look of horror he gave Longbottom. It had been a big enough shock to learn that Longbottom was Wormtail's nephew. It was an even huger surprise when Longbottom as good as told Snape that his uncle was still alive.  
  
Snape knew, from the second new-member joining ceremony with Voldemort, that Wormtail was alive and that Longbottom had joined up with him. However, he didn't understand how Longbottom switched sides. He had appeared to be completely on the "light" side, since he was a Gryffindor and was on good terms with Harry Potter.  
  
Thinking of Potter, Snape began to wonder what Longbottom could be doing, or planning on doing, by getting closer with Granger and Potter. Maybe he was just being a usual spy, but something was screaming in Snape's ear that there was more to it than that. Deciding that he had spent an overly long time thinking about other people, Snape finally straightened his night cap, picked up his potions book, and snuck into his bedroom. He blew out his many candles surrounding his shrine for Professor McGonagall, and hopped in his bed.   


* * *

  
  
Lord Voldemort was growing very impatient with Draco, who was not looking around in any of the right corners. Instead, he was staring at the squished cherries in his hands as though he had discovered secret government information that he could get paid a lot of money for. Tiring of waiting for Draco to notice him, Voldemort stepped out from the shadows and faced Draco.  
  
Draco slowly backed into the wall farthest from Voldemort and clenched his fists, which dripped a red blood-like liquid.  
  
"Um....hello. Can I help you?" Draco was trying his best not to faint from shock.  
  
"Yes, I think you can, but first you deserve an explanation." Voldemort paused and was deeply amused with Draco's struggles to hide how terrified he was. "So. You've just taken a bit of a trip with that..ah...cherry, haven't you? Sorry about that, I think I may have put in the a different ingredient than...well, you know. What am I apologizing for? How stupid of me to be so...kind...to a person such as yourself..." Draco squeaked in response.  
  
"So...you must be wondering what I am doing here, or how you got here, or possibly where here is. You're right with your original thoughts, young Malfoy. You are in a deserted Malfoy dungeon, and you fell through the wall up there. Yes, yes...I will get to my purpose, young Malfoy. I wanted to see how you'd respond to such a situation as this, and I am rather pleased with the results...yes, you did well. Also, I wanted to ask you something...are you friends with my associate Neville Longbottom?"  
  
This seemed to be the last straw for Draco, who fainted and collapsed on the cold floor.   


* * *

  
  
A/N: *giggles* I'm sorry for such a wierd chapter! The next one is much more...umm...normal. Although I have to admit this has been the most fun chapter to write so far...*hehehe* Oh, so...if you've got any ideas about what was going on in the first couple scenes (the student and teacher, and the conversation Draco overheard) or anything else (like why Snape has a shrine dedicated to McGonagall! *hehe*) please tell me in your reviews. [Note to Al: GWMP has nothing to do with Wormtail, Moony, or Padfoot...although that's a good guess...*hehehe*]  
  



	4. Default Chapter Title

A/N: I am really sorry this took so long! I don't really have that good of an excuse. *looks guilty* Well, last week I had finals and the two weeks before that were pure madness, (if anyone else is having their finals now- you know what I'm talking about) so there's a weak excuse...kind of. SORRY!!   
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me, as they all belong to JK Rowling. (If they did belong to me, do you think I'd be writing here??)   
  


* * *

## _The Potion of Immortality:_

Part Four  


  
Voldemort was looming over Draco when he finally awoke after learning that Longbottom was an "associate" with Voldemort that he had passed out. Voldemort's face floated vaguely in front of Draco, who thought he was still dreaming.   
  
When Voldemort's face only became clearer, Draco realized everything that he had finally convinced himself hadn't happened, had actually happened. It was slighty disturbing.   
  
Draco had been trapped in the creepiest of the Malfoy dungeons for a few days; he had eaten hallucinogenic cherries that had been spiked by Voldemort, and Voldemort had announced he knew Longbottom. Draco shivered as he recalled the memories.  
  
"I'm not sure what you want from me...you want to know if I know Longbottom? Yes, I know him...he's rather...ah..._slow_ isn't he? A Griffindor who is on good terms with Harry Potter? Is that who you're talking about?"  
  
Draco's head was pounding with the worst headache he'd ever had, and his arm was starting to have shocks of pain that made him bite his tongue every time he lifted his head to look at Voldemort. He was so distracted with everything else going on that he hadn't noticed that the pain was coming from a specific spot on his arm, where his Dark Mark was.  
  
"Neville is not as _slow_ as you believe him to be. Actually, he is one of my best recruits. I am very pleased with his work, but he needs some assistance with some research his latest assignment. Sit up, young Malfoy...that's better."  
  
Draco lifted his head up and straightened his back against the dungeon wall. "What kind of research do you need him to do? Can't you just-"  
  
Voldemort looked insulted and replied coldly, "I can do anything I want! I just would prefer not to waste my time looking through moldy books. I have more important things to do." Draco was surprised at how insecure Voldemort was acting.   
  
Voldemort lifted his chin proudly. "It is time we get out of here. I have found out everything I need to about you. Stand up with me, young Malfoy." Draco felt himself being pulled up by an arm he couldn't see, then was sucked away in a dizzying swirl of colors and power.  
  
Voldemort and Draco landed in the uncannily deserted Malfoy dining room, which was looking particularly spectacular for the holidays. Draco hurried frantically up to his room, after being told by a revolted Voldemort to clean up for some important guests they were having over for dinner.   


* * *

  
  
Two Death Eaters, one of whom had joined in the _first_ new member joining ceremony since Voldemort's uprising, were the "important" guests. Completly appalled, Draco stared open-mouthed at the new member . The Death Eater grinned at Draco and gave him a look that clearly said, _you didn't _**_really_**_ think I was a good boy, did you?_ Draco was unable to deliver any kind of response except for shutting his mouth.  
  
Neville Longbottom gestured for Draco to take a seat next to him, which Draco did slowly in his shocked state. The man across from Neville was talking quietly to Lucius and kept glancing around the room nervously.  
  
When Draco took his seat, Lucius cleared his throat and his wife Narcissa, who had come in shortly after Draco and looked like she was about to ask a question, stopped to hear what Lucius had to say.  
  
Lucius took a huge, dramatic breath before beginning his anticipated speach. "Draco, I think I am right in saying that you already know Longbottom here? Neville, I hope you excuse Draco's shock. I think he's of the opinion you are on the Dumb-one's side."   
  
Lucius paused pointedly before beginning to talk once again. "Draco, I assure you that both of our guests do not care for such nonsense, and that both have proven themselves several times. Narcissa, this is Neville Longbottom, a student at Hogwarts. He is also my apprentice, but is often instructed by our other guest. That reminds me...neither Draco nor Narcissa know of your living existence, Wormtail."  
  
Narcissa gave Wormtail, Lucius, and Neville a confused look as the three Death Eaters chuckled in harmony. "I'm not sure I understand...Wormtail? Should I know anyone famous named that?"   
  
Narcissa was obviously trying to hide her temper, which rarely surfaced except when she felt she had been left in the dark about some deep, dark secret. Although she looked harmless, she could turn vicious when angered. Lucius, who knew all of the above from previous experiences, hurried to explain.   
  
"Wormtail's true name is Peter Pettigrew, and he was supposedly killed by Sirius Black many years ago. Of course, since Black was never on our side, Wormtail was never killed or harmed, unless you count the painful experience of cutting off his own finger."  
  
"Well, it wasn't that bad. Look at what I've got now! This makes up for all that pain, and more." Wormtail flashed his silver arm for all to see, and Draco rolled his eyes, utterly unimpressed. However, his brain had just recalled that his father had said something of importance a few moments ago. It was really very important, if only he could recall it...  
  
"Sirius Black is innocent!?" Draco couldn't stop himself in time as he was greatly surprised by the changes in side-switching history. Lucius was furious with Draco's outburst, but pushed his anger away and focused on having Draco under control again.  
  
"Yes, Draco. Many things are not as they seem." Lucius said in a clipped voice. Wormtail and Neville exchanged excited grins as they began to enthusiastically chatter about how they each had turned to the Dark Side. Draco quickly lost interest in their conversation.   
  
His attention was revived a few times during Neville's story: particulary when he called Wormtail "Uncle."  
  
It seemed that Wormtail's brother was Neville's father. Draco also found it interesting that Neville's parents had been tortured for information because the Death Eaters thought Wormtail might have slipped up and told his brother more than he should have. Due to the complexity of these thoughts, Draco's fork missed his mouth more than once, but none noticed.  
  
Soon after that informative story, they began to talk about things Draco could have fallen asleep hearing about (but he managed not to). Draco began to ask his father if he could leave by jerking his head casually in the direction of the door.  
  
"Draco, you want to leave our conversation so soon? Are we boring you? Would you prefer to know what we're talking about? It would be rather easy for us to explain," Wormtail said in a cruel voice meant for three-year olds.   
  
"I don't care whether you want to know or not. You must know. Even Neville knows, and he doesn't know too many inside things." Neville shiften uneasily in his chair. "...not things like Lucius and I do anyway." Wormtail was looking very proud of himself.   
  
"What you must know is this. We have Harry Potter's life in our hands. We know what will kill him off in a second, but we need two people stationed at Hogwarts for it to work. One of those peole must _not_ be in the Gryffindor house, and the other needs to be in order for our plans to work."  
  
Draco, with his interest rejunevated, asked Wormtail several times using different words how they had Harry Potter's life in their hands, but Wormtail pretended not to hear.   
  
Lucius would have smacked Draco upside the head when he began to grumble about doing things for people when he didn't know why he was doing them, but stopped. Smacking Draco would have made Lucius look bad and Narcissa would have probably zapped him dead on the spot. Not to mention, he had grown rather fond of Draco over the years.  
  
"I think I will tell Draco just what he needs to do later. Sound good to you?" Neville and Wormtail nodded yes to Lucius, and smiled maliciously at Draco. Draco pushed his untouched food around on his plate, and waited to be dismissed.   
  
_How much longer until I go back to Hogwarts? A week? It depends on how long I was down in that dungeon...I think I was there for two days, but it might have been less.   
  
I feel like I left Hogwarts a year ago. After all, so much has happened...becoming a Death Eater-- that reminds me! What was that thing that was put on my arm? Have I ever asked anyone what it was? I can't remember. Damn cherries, making me forget important things...  
  
Voldemort left two hours ago, so I can't ask him...I really don't know who to ask. My father would die if I asked in front of our "honorable" guests...even though they would both be very proud to answer my question.   
  
It would be just one more thing for them to be able to brag about knowing. If I can stand the humiliation of admitting that Neville Longbottom knows something I don't know, then I guess it would be worth it to ask him...but can I stand it? No...it's not a big enough issue.   
  
I bet that if I had read those documents I agreed to I would know. Opps. Crap, what if the answer _**_was_**_ in there? Would I get in trouble for not knowing? Probably. Damn! Now I can't ask. Wait, didn't Voldemort say something to me after he put it on me?   
  
What was it...he said something...he named it...Did call it a Mark? Did he call it that? If he did, he must be referring to the Dark Mark...my father's favorite.   
  
Oh great, I need to go to the bathroom and check it out. Wait, didn't it fade away? Oh wow...I'm acting like my hair color says I should._  
  
"DRACO? DRACO!"  
  
"Oh, what? Dark- yes?"  
  
"I was just saying, DRACO, that if you really want to go...you may." Lucius was glaring at Draco for showing a lack of respect in front of the guests, but Draco didn't care.  
  
"Oh, may I? Thank you. It was nice to see both of you. Good night." Draco didn't even bother to make an excuse for leaving, he was too distracted. Draco pushed his chair out from under the table so quickly that it got caught and tipped onto its back legs. Draco stumbled, caught himself, and hastily shoved the chair under the high table before he sprinted from the room. Draco knew he would be scolded for his actions later in the night, but he didn't care about anything except getting far, far away from Wortail and "Nev," as he was supposed to call Longbottom. 

* * *

  
  
"Do you think he'll understand what to do from so few instructions? Do you think he can just be told what to do in general, but not **how** to go about doing so? I don't."  
  
"Well...."   
  
"See what I mean? You need to give Draco more instruction. He doesn't understand...your hints aren't getting through to him. He thinks he's supposed to wait for **further** instruction..."  
  
"Well, isn't he?"  
  
"No. That's precisely my point. He needs to meet with that other boy...what's his name?  
  
"Longbottom, Master."  
  
" Yes, him...They need to figure out the ingredients for the Potion, and they should also try to locate a unicorn. After all, that's the whole point, isn't it?"   
  
"Yes, of course it is...of course."  
  
"Tell Draco what he is to do. _Exactly_, Lucius."  
  
"Yes, my lord. It will be done shortly."

* * *

  
  
After leaving the dining room, Draco climbed the long stairway to his quarters. He was instantly distracted by his silky black cat, Finecci. Lucius disapproved of Finecci because her past was unknown, and for all he knew, Finecci was not purebred. Draco shuddered to know what his father would say if he requested to bring his beloved kitty to school.   
  
Visions of Lucius's eyes bulging and a vessel in his neck twitching as Lucius exploded with anger brought a grim smile to Draco's lips, but it vanished as soon as it had come. The vision portrayed reality, and it was a reality Draco hated. For once, he wished to be individual. He wanted to be more than just a Malfoy, but, for now, being a Malfoy would have to be good enough.  
  
Draco leaned down to stroke Finecci's back, and smiled as she gave a shiver of delight. It was obvious Finecci did not receive the kind of attention she wanted, but Draco could do nothing about it. At least, he could do nothing about it now...  
  
Draco continued up the stairs, and decided he would inspect his arm in his personal bathrooom to look for any signs of the Dark Mark. Finecci followed at his heels, and when they reached the door to the bathroom she willed the door open with her mind. Although it was not apparent whether she was a pureblooded magical cat, it was obvious that she had some magical origin. "G'job, Finecci" Draco said in the kind voice that he reserved only for her, and perhaps his mother too.   
  
After all, it had been Narcissa who insisted on taking in Finecci. Narcissa had liked Finecci's silky coat, and thought her colorings, which were nothing more than black, would match the furniture. When she had first seen Finecci, and Lucius had, of course, been reluctant to keep her, Narcissa's best argument had been "At least none of the cat hairs will show up on my new chair!"   
  
Although that argument was weak, Lucius could not stand to make Narcissa angry with him. Therefore, Narcissa and Draco had gotten their way, and all Lucius could do was sulk.  
  
Draco sat on the edge of his bathtub and rolled up his left sleeve. He looked at every possible angle of his pallid and thin arm, and he finally found a trace of what looked like it could be the Dark Mark. Draco inspected it closer, and came to the conclusion that it was indeed the Dark Mark, but it was so faint that it was almost invisible.  
  
If he tried to ask Lucius about its appearance on his arm, and showed Lucius where he thought it was, Lucius would probably squint and say that Draco was imagining things. Of course, there was the slightest of chances that Lucius would leap up and announce to Draco that all Death Eaters had a trace of the Dark Mark on their arm as a symbol of their devotion to Voldemort. Draco decided the possibility of such a thing happening was too slim to risk looking like a paranoid fool.  
  
Draco leaned over to stroke Finecci's small head, and pointed to his arm whispering, "You don't see anything there, do you?" Finecci looked up at Draco with a befuddled expression, since Draco rarely spoke directly to her except in extreme situations. Draco had discovered long ago that Finecci had the power to show exactly what she wanted to say through her eyes, and so he searched her eyes for any trace of answers.   
  
Draco interpreted the look in her glassy green eyes to mean that she knew the answer to his question, but thought that Draco could answer it without her help. He cursed under his breath and glared at Finecci, who hissed and successfuly stared him down. Draco finally decided that he couldn't afford to make any hasty actions, and chose to pretend that his arm had never hurt him before.  
  
Draco remembered that Christmas was only a day away (he had finally checked a calander to figure out what day it was). Although Draco was originally saddened and disappointed when his father announced that the family would be having a milder Christmas celebration than in previous years, with fewer presents, Draco realized that he really didn't need or want anything in particular. Therefore, Draco didn't care if he received less than he usually did.  


* * *

  
  
Draco awoke on Christmas morning in a more cheerful mood than he usually would when he had to rise before the sun did, and he gleefully opened his closet to pick out a favorite dressy outfit. He prodded and poked around through his clothes, but his enthusiasm began to deteriorate as he noticed that all of his clothes were a grim black.   
  
Finecci streched and strolled out of Draco's room. Draco shook his head in mild confusion, since he hadn't noticed that Finecci had even been in his room all night. Draco took a step back from his closet and stumbled over a package he hadn't noticed before. It was wrapped in fluffy sky blue tissue paper and had a small note attached to the right hand corner of it. Curiously, Draco leaned over and removed the note from the package, taking special care not to damage the tissue paper.  
  
_Dear Draco,   
We can't be there to see you open your Christmas gift, but we're sure you will have many opportunities in the near future to thank us for it. Have a nice day._  
  
Although the note was unsigned, Draco could tell it was from his mother and father. They, of course, were too busy to spend Christmas morning with him and he would have to spend the day by himself, as he usually did. Eager to see what extravagant thing his parents had given him this year, Draco tore apart the paper and studied its contents.  
  
Inside was a silky cloak, made of material which flowed through his hands like nothing ever had before. He had only heard of such a cloak in story books, and couldn't believe that he had the good fortune to be given one. He tried it on over his fleece pajamas, and he looked in the mirror across his room to see whether his suspicions would be confirmed. Draco was pleased at what he saw: nothing. As he had thought, his parents had given him an invisibility cloak.  
  
Draco felt a rush of freedom, and decided to march around the house to check up on how the servants behaved when they thought he wasn't watching. The conversations he overheard were rather dull, and it appeared that none of the servants were much different than he thought they were when he wasn't around.   
  
The butler and primary maid glared at each other a lot, and it was obvious they wanted nothing more than for the other to leave. The house elves were cheerful and hard at work scrubbing the kitchen floor. Draco was slightly disappointed; he had been hoping to uncover some great scandal. Draco spent most of the day wandering the house in his new cloak, but took it off an hour before dinner. That was around the time when his father came home from business. Lucius had, of course, continued to work even on Christmas day.  
  
When the great double doors to the Malfoy mansion opened up to admit Lucius, Neville Longbottom was at his side. Lucius pulled Draco aside and briefly explained that Draco and Neville needed to plan what they were going to do when they returned to Hogwarts, which would be in only a few days time. Draco led Neville into one of the many offices, complete with highback leather chairs and an expensive wooden table.   
  
"As I understand it, Nev," Draco choked out Longbottom's nickname uncomfortably, "we have to make some plans. I don't get what those plans are supposed to be about, but I'm assuming that you do...right?" Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He didn't like to have to admit that anyone knew anything more than he did.  
  
"We need the blood of a unicorn, so I guess that means we have to find a unicorn, huh Drai?" Draco convulsed a bit at Longbottom's use of his childhood nickname, "The only problem is that I...can't quite..um...figure out how to, well..."  
  
Draco muttered something under his breath about having to work with idiots, and then replied "We have to find a unicorn and kill it, but you don't know where one is. Is that about it?"  
  
Draco looked around the room for a bit of comfort, but found that he portraits of long dead old men did not work well for that need. "You know what, Nev!?" Draco had had a sudden burst of an idea that was either completely horrible or wonderfully brilliant. "I think my Christmas present would work as an excellent help for you..." Neville leaned forward in his chair, skeptically staring at Draco with the belief that Draco could come up with no better an idea than he could.  
  
"And that is?" Neville was obvious jealous that Draco had come up with an answer before he had.  
  
"I got an invisibility cloak for Christmas! It could easily hide you..."  
  
"You would think of the obvious, wouldn't you?" Neville examined his immaculate fingernails.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes and asked harshly, "What would you mean by that?"  
  
Neville seemed to recover from his sudden burst of jealousy. "Nuthin', Drai, nuthin'. It sounds like a great idea..."  
  
"You think I'm just going to...loan out my precious cloak to anyone!? Well, you're wrong! I do expect you...to do something for me in exchange, you know."  
  
"We're supposed to be partners in crime, you know? I'm helping you out by telling you our mission..." Draco sighed impatiently, as if the argument was not going the way he wanted it to.  
  
"OK, I've got it. I've got something relatively easy for you to do for me...it just might take some explaining. Here, I'll show you while I get my cloak for you."  
  
Neville looked at Draco suspiciously before following him out of the door.

* * *

  
  
Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were having another of their typical arguments. It was unclear to anyone else who was in the Gryffindor Common room just who was winning, but Ron could tell that Hermione was running out of good arguments.  
  
"Neville is a good kid, Ron! Why can't you see that? You're just being jealous Ron, and you know it."  
  
"Jealous? Of what? What does he have that I don't?" Ron glared at Hermione and dared her to answer.  
  
"Ron! Get over yourself for once in your life! I like you. You're a pretty cool guy, but..."  
  
Ron stared at Hermione in horror, and whispered "You can't think...you don't think-"  
  
"Obviously, I think a lot more often then you do, Ron! So don't even TRY to say that I don't think." Harry Potter was watching his best friends argue with great interest, since he knew that something big was going to happen. Either Ron and Hermione would finally admit that they liked each other, or Ron would go crazy and never talk to Hermione again. The more Harry thought about it, there were many more possibilities as well.  
  
Ron and Hermione's argument was paused when the portrait opened and an unsuspecting Neville Longbottom strolled in, apparently back from his vacation. He was dragging his trunk, which was weighed down by a small carrying crate. The occupants of the room looked at Neville curiously, and he opened the cage's door to let a small black cat jump out and prance around.

* * *

  
  
A/N: Wow. It's over. I actually FINISHED part four! Actually, I don't have school this whole week...so I wouldn't be surprised if I got another one or two fics out pretty soon.  
  
Please review...pretty please? If you give me a signed review I'll read your some of your fics and give you a nice long review- just tell me the titles of the ones you especially want to be read. Hey, look at that! I'm letting you guys put advertisements in my reviews...hehehe. Oh well. Can you at least give me some constructive criticism as well? That would be really cool. *wonders if anyone is still reading what she's writing* Please review!  
thanks, ~dani the semi-blonde Death Eater who loves Draco Malfoy and worships the ground Voldy walks on~ *giggles* 


	5. Default Chapter Title

The Potion of Immortality: Part Five A/N:  
Hi! Wow. Two parts in one week...what am I on??? Don't answer that. This part reveals a lot about the plot. Just for fare warning, this part has some depressing moods. A lot of depressing moods, actually. I made three characters cry. *sighs* OK. That's all, happy reading!  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me, as they all belong to JK Rowling (and her publishers too, I think...oh well, whatever). 

* * *

  
  


_

## The Potion of Immortality:

_ Part Five 

  
  
Neville's innocent smile vanished when he saw Ron and Hermione glaring at him. "What? This is Finecci..." Neville's eyes grew to be twice their normal size as Hermione approached him, eyes blazing with anger. Neville gave Ron a quick questioning look, but he received no comfort.  
  
Ron's face matched his hair color, and he was shaking with suppressed anger when he said calmly, "This isn't about the cat, Neville."  
  
"Umm. OK." Neville was now cornered at the back of the common room, and he saw endless faces turned looking at the scene his entrance had caused. The common room had filled up with students who had also recently returned early from winter vacation.  
  
"Ron's having some problems. I don't know what's up with him..." Hermione was staring at Ron, shaking her head and breathing heavily. "He's suddenly become all...possessive, or-"  
  
"I have _not_ become _possessive_-"  
  
"Could have fooled me," someone teasingly called out.  
  
Ron continued, but less confidently than before. "I just think that something's wrong with him," Ron cried out, gesturing towards Neville. "That's all." Ron was furious that no one was openly agreeing with him. "Guys? And Girls too, I mean?" Ron asked searching around the room for support.  
  
"What, is this gunna turn into some kind of interrogation? Let's all see what's wrong with Neville, shall we!?" Neville was sounding rather hysterical. "He acts so quiet...but why? Is that what you want to know? Is it!?" Neville's eyes were brimming with uncried tears as he screamed out, "Well, why don't you ask the Death Eaters who ruined my life! Ruined my parents..forever...why don't you ask them? Maybe THEY could tell you." Neville sunk to the floor with his arms hugging his knees and his shoulders shaking with waves of emotion.  
  
Hermione looked at Ron in horror, and tried to comfort Neville by stroking his shaking form, but Neville shrugged her hand off.  
  
"Ron," Hermione whispered hoarsely, "What've we done to him?"   
  
Harry Potter, who had been observing the scene from the background, decided it was time he got involved.   
  
"Neville, let's go to our dormitory..." Harry said gently as he helped Neville to his feet. Neville stood swaying and looked first at Harry, and then around at the other curious faces. Without saying anything to Harry, Ron, or Hermione, Neville made a mad dash up to his room. Finecci looked confused for a few moments, but then trotted up the stairs after Neville.   
  
Harry sighed and gave a hopeless look towards Ron and Hermione, who were still standing and staring at the place Neville had been only moments before.   
  
"Now what," Harry asked in a raspy voice unlike his usual cheery tune. Ron shook his head, and Hermione let out a small sob. Harry reached out to hug her and she fell into his arms quivering with unleased emotions.   
  
Neither noticed when Ron stormed away, dragging Neville's trunk behind him. Ron gave his friends a last frustrated glare at the top of the stairs before he charged into his room and yanked the curtains closed around his bed. He was so angry with everything that he didn't think to wonder why Neville's sobs weren't echoing through the room. 

* * *

  
  
Neville slammed the door to create more drama, and wiped the fake tears from his face. He stretched out comfortably on his bed, and smiled when he noticed the dead silence surrounding him. Voices could usually be heard from the common room, but he must have made such an impression on everyone that they were shocked silent.  
  
Neville resisted the urge to laugh out loud when the door creaked open and slammed. _Must be Weasley,_ Neville thought, _Potter never gets that angry. If it was Potter, he would already be here "comforting" me._ Neville closed his eyes, and allowed his mind to randomly wander as he listened to the sounds of Weasley's frustrated muttering.  
  
_Yeah, that's right. Wimper over things that don't matter, like you're always doing. You don't even know the half of it, Weasley. Honestly, what's the worst thing that's ever happened to you?_ Neville tried to imagine saying something like that to Weasley, but knew that he never would- or could. _Well, I'll tell you something, Weasley. I always felt out of place in my life. For as long as I can remember, I've been a joke in my pure blooded family, and just about everywhere else too. Hogwarts is still the worst place I can remember trying to fit into...At least in my primary school we did "Creative Activities" where a variety of skills and parts of the mind were stimulated.   
  
Here, no one cares if you can draw a pretty picture. No one's impressed if you **could** do something- they only care if you can do it while they're watching._ Neville hadn't noticed that tears were running slowly down his puffy cheeks. _We rarely did anything with magic, and when we did we needed parental approval slips to be signed. It was always rather horrific to have to announce to the teacher that my parents were not...well, in their right minds. My classmates would stare, and I would hang my head while my teacher sent an owl to my grandmother asking if what I was saying was the truth.   
  
In the return owl, Gran would say that it was the truth, but she would also say what hurt me even more. "We think that Neville's a squib. He's never shown any magical abilities, so I don't give permission for him to be involved in the activity." That hurt worse than anything anyone could ever imagine. Even my own grandmother thought I was useless._  
  
Neville's pillow was now damp with him own tears, but he ignored them and continued his trail of thoughts. _When my uncle, Peter "Wormtail" Pettigrew, came to my grandmother's house (I still don't feel at home in it, so I'm not going to refer to it as home even though I've spent the greater part of my life living in it) three months ago, I was agog. Finally, there was something promising coming into my life! Important, famous people could look up to me will the knowledge that I, Neville Longbottom, was special.  
  
It was all I ever wished for: to be recognized as a real person. Maybe if DUMBLEDORE had noticed me, I would be fighting on the other side of the fence. Unfortunately for his sake, I was called to the Dark Side, and will fight faithfully for the side that first acknowledged my existence until my death._  
  
Neville sat up and rubbed his head with his sweaty palms, tired of thinking such "deep" thoughts. He sat on the edge of his bed, not noticing Finecci circling his ankles, rubbing against him. Neville clamored the rest of the way out of his bed, and quickly retrieved the invisibility cloak out of his trunk. He left the dormitory ready to prove his worthiness to Voldemort.

* * *

  
  
Draco Malfoy sat on the train going back to Hogwarts, watching the ever darkening clouds form strange shapes and cast eerie shadows throughout his compartment. A strip of light jetted out through the clouds and bounced around the room, temporarily amusing Draco, before finally being swallowed up again by the enclosing darkness. Like everything else in his life, the clouds would come and block out the sun, his happiness, but then a ray of hope would escape, only to vanish again into the depressing darkness.  
  
Draco blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. _Why now? Why?_ Draco put his head on the inky black table, and wrapped his right arm around his head. When the compartment door burst open, and Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown fell in laughing inbetween kisses, they didn't notice Draco huddling near the window sitting cross-legged in the booth. Dean glanced up to take in some air, and gaped at Draco. This was not the typical Draco Malfoy he saw at school, and he gestured at Draco to Lavender, who let out an inaudible gasp.  
  
Their presence alone was enough to force Draco out of his stupor, however, and he hissed at both of them, "Get out. Now." Whether it was that Draco had puffy eyes or that his usually immaculate hair was horribly disheveled that caused Dean and Lavender to leap up and flee the room was unclear, but it was certain that Draco's appearance had frightened them.  
  
Dean slammed the door loudly and wiped some lipstick off his mouth before he stated the obvious. "I think something's wrong with Malfoy." Lavender leaned against the wall, swaying with the movement of the train.  
  
"Dean," she said calmly, "there's always been something wrong with Malfoy." Dean nodded his head in agreement, but gave the compartment door a second glance before sliding his arm over Lavender's shoulder and giving her an encouraging smile.  
  
Draco listened to Thomas and Brown's conversation, and was pleased to hear that he had given them a scare, but was disturbed to learn that Thomas thought something was the matter with him. Draco moaned quietly and rested his head on the smooth surface of the table.  
  
The clouds glimmered bizarrely and a streak of lightening struck down a nearby tree, showering everything within forty yards of it with dazzling orange yellow sparks. Draco began to quietly chuckle to himself and was unable to stop for the next twenty minutes. By then, he had returned to softly crying. He cried over the loss of his childhood, over the confusion his newfound life as a Death Eater was bringing into his life.   
  
He cried for a thousand reasons, yet he also cried for no reason at all. He only stopped crying when it began to drizzle and eventually pour ice cold rain on the trees, the ground, and everything inbetween. He shivered in sympathy watching a small gray squirrel huddle amidst the intertwining branches of an ancient dying tree.   
  
When he stood in front of the entrance to the Slytherin dungeon a few hours later, no one in their right minds (which didn't exactly include all of the Slytherins) would have thought that Draco had been crying. After all, why would the great Draco Malfoy, perhaps the coldest person at Hogwarts, need to cry?  
  
When Draco finally was admitted to enter (he hadn't knwon the password and waited a long time before another Slytherin went out) he acknowledged his acquaintances, and raised a cocky eyebrow to the four prettiest Slytherin girls, who all clung together making a strangely impressive group. The Slytherin boys frowned together when Jenika Sandie, the sixth year leader of the four pretty Slytherins, gave Draco a tight embrace a seductive smile. Draco grinned quickly at her, his sparkling white teeth flashing, but when he saw the glares the other boys were giving him he retreated and continued through the cold hallways to his dormitory.  
  
He flopped back on his bed, and fluffed up his green pillow. Draco glanced around at the depressing rough walls of his room, and wished he had a window to look out so he would at least be able to see how horrible it was outside, and not just feel it. He realized that since the dungeons were underground there probably couldn't be any windows. _There I go, acting like a blond again. Honestly, I'm surprised Potter hasn't started teasing me about being blond yet. Well,_ Draco thought wryly, _maybe he's jealous._

* * *

  
  
At ten o'clock that night, Draco and Neville, who was hidden under Draco's invisibility cloak, snuck into the library and were still there three hours later. Draco was getting ever closer to discovering the secret to how how Potter's downfall was possible, but Neville was being very difficult to get any information out of.  
  
"What?" Draco realized that Neville had been saying something to him.  
  
Neville rolled his eyes and repeated himself. "It's in these papers. Here." Neville shoved a pile of warn down papers towards Draco, who suddenly looked interested.  
  
"The Potion of Immortality, huh? Sounds like a load of crap to me...wait, no, it sounds exactly like this other thing. What's it called? You know what I'm talking about." Draco arched an unimpressed narrow eyebrow at Neville, who seemed to be contemplating something while biting his lip. It briefly crossed Draco's mind that Neville was thinking about chewing on his lip, but gave Neville a chance to explain himself.   
  
"You mean the Elixir of Life? Yeah...it's a bit similar to that, but, well..." Neville was frustrated that Draco couldn't see the difference since it was so obvious to himself. "Lemme put it this way. You only have to drink the Potion once, and you're "immortal" forever- whereas with the Elixir of Life, you've got to continuously drink it or else it wears off. Also, um, the Potion is easier to make- if you know how."  
  
Neville's eyes sparkled with malice, and Draco suppressed a shudder before he shot back, "Are you saying, Nev, that you know how to make the Potion? If you do, then why are you researching it...?"  
  
Neville smiled coldly. "Other people at this school know more about it than I do, and I don't intend to keep it that way. We must always be better, Drai, always. Gotta stay on top...can't ever be defeated."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
Neville jumped as if he had been broken free of a trance, and quickly replied to Draco, "Why do you think I'm dating Granger? Why would I waste my time like that, unless I had greater reasons?"  
  
"I never said anything about GWMP..." Neville's head shot up suddenly, and he narrowed his eyes.  
  
"So you figured out the nicknames, eh? Or did Daddy have to tell you?"  
  
"It was both, Nev...I mean, come on..." Draco shifted in his red velvet chair and looked around self consciously. "Someone's bound to notice that I'm not alone here...Why does it matter if they know we're friends? Things are so messed up already, or they will be soon, that no one will think to put two and two together..."   
  
"This is exactly what I'm talking about...we've got to keep it that way! The more precautions the better. Granger's already figured out more than is good for her. And that Weasley, he's becoming dangerous too," Neville whispered in a panicky voice. "Master said that I could do anything I needed in order to keep people from discovering...I think we need to start researching what I really came here to figure out. We've got to get Weasley under our control...make him do what we want."  
  
"You're not going to do the Imperius Curse, are you? D'you know how much trouble-"  
  
"DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I CARE?"  
  
Draco sat back in his chair, and stared off at the high ceiling of the room. "I don't know anymore. Calm down, Nev...someone's bound to hear! Right, get a grip on yourself...stop panicking...it's all under control, right?" Somewhere Draco had stopped talking to Neville and started talking to himself, but the lines were unclear. Draco looked back at the place he thought Neville was seated and whispered loudly, "If you don't care about getting in trouble, then why don't you just take the cloak off? Wait, where's Finecci? You didn't leave her with the Gryffindors, did you!?"  
  
"Ah. She'll be fine. Harry Potter's not going to let anything happen to a _sweet, innocent,_ cat like yours..." Neville stripped off the invisibility cloak to reveal a pale round face with empty eyes. "I was thinking we could try out this curse on Weasley. It looks fun, and it hasn't been used in a hundred years. I'm sure it'll confuse everyone..." Neville presented Draco with a thick yellowing book open to a page near its middle. After studying the brief explanation of what the spell did to a person under its influence, Draco had to agree that it sounded like what they needed, even though it had pretty nasty effects on the person who underwent the spell.   
  
"Sounds," Draco pursed his lips and kept from saying what he really thought, "great. It sounds exactly like what we need. Why do you think Weasley's a threat, and how are you going to be able to do _that_," Draco inquired looking at how much experience and knowledge was expected of a person who was going to use the spell.  
  
"I've already got it together...everything's ready. I just wanted to make sure you agreed that it was the proper spell. Weasley isn't just jealous of me because I have the mudblood...I'm sure of it. He's got deeper reasons for not liking me than that. So I think it's best we get him out of the way. Also, he'll come in use later on." Neville grinned at Draco and marked the page with a small bit a paper before closing the heavy book silently. "What else was there to talk about? Oh, yeah. Drai, you need to figure out how to get unicorn blood. It'll kill Potter in an instant. I think that's it-"   
  
"WHAT? Unicorn blood? How will _that_ do anything to Potter?" Draco was tired of being told what to do without knowing why he should do it, and he was finally ready to stand up and ask what he wanted, and needed, to know.  
  
"I thought you'd figured it out by now," Neville said slowly, "Harry Potter's parents gave him a swig of the Immortality Potion. They figured out how to do make it, and thought that since Voldemort would want to kill him anyway, he's got some powerful blood in his background, it would be good for him to be able to survive Voldemort's attacks." Neville looked at Draco's stunned face and cracked an evil smile.  
  
"But...but...but Harry Potter's parents died to keep him alive! My father told me! Why would they bother to if they knew he'd survive? And what would Unicorn Blood do to him? He's already immortal..." Draco spat out the last word painfully, it obviously aggravated him to know that Harry Potter had survived all those attacks not because he was a great powerful wizard, but merely because his parents had been clever.  
  
Neville sighed and began gathering his books and papers together. "Give it a rest, Drai. You'll figure it out eventually. The Unicorn Blood has the opposite effect on a person with the Immortality Potion in their blood than it would on a person without." Neville walked out of the library without bothering to look back. Draco stood horrified for a half hour, but when the sound of a book falling off of a shelf brought him back to his senses he fled the library, also not looking back.  
  
If Draco or Neville had bothered to give the library one last glance before darting out of the door, they would have noticed a small shape huddling in the corner behind several stack of books. Ron Weasley picked up the book he recently dropped, thankful Malfoy hadn't bothered to check where the sound had come from. He was stunned to discover that he had been right about Neville all along, but was sad to recognize the fact that Harry and Hermione would never believe him. 

* * *

  
  
A/N: Ah! How did I finish this so quickly? I hope it wasn't too..umm...wierd. Actually, this part was pretty normal in comparison to part three- the cherry chapter! I was listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers (who totally rock!) when I wrote this, if that explains any of the depressing moods (like Draco on the train..hehe). Please take the time to write a quick review, I'm really desperate for them. If you give me a signed review I'll check out your fics and give _you_ a review (request reviews for a specific story, please!).  
  
Thanks! ~dani the semi-blonde Death Eater who loves Draco Malfoy and worships the ground Voldy walks on~  



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